


Trust

by restlesswriting



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Comfort, M/M, Swearing, i'm not going to write something fluffy for kagehina day of course i'm not, olympic au, slight mentions of karasuno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 21:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2284722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restlesswriting/pseuds/restlesswriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a point in time when he doubted Hinata’s abilities. But with years of practice, polishing skills, screams of ‘once more’, accompanied with late night strategic discussions (and cramming for finals), he’d slowly learned to trust the middle blocker, not that he’d admit it. So if the shorty was so confident in their abilities, then who was he to doubt them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rinsousukes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinsousukes/gifts).



The first time he noticed something was wrong was during one of their practice matches.

Hinata had made the spike like usual, blowing away competitors (the ‘wows’ people made were nothing new, and they still haven’t brought out their freakish quick yet). It was the slight hitch in Hinata’s breath, the way his muscles bunched for impact and the tiny wince that gave him away. Surely someone would have noticed and called for a time out. Still, the game raged on and Kageyama got swept along with the tide, listening to the calls from his teammates.

They pulled away from their competitors with an easy grace, taking the lead early. Usually, Kageyama would watch their opponents, flooded with thoughts of success and triumph but today he has eyes locked on another target. His middle blocker, the dumb, short, loudmouth middle blocker with a shock of wild orange hair, the one who had been with him ever since his high school days, better known as the other half of the oddball combination. _Hinata_. Scouts had come up to them in their last year of high school, each looking for fresh talent. Needless to say, everyone wanted to get their hands on the dynamic duo, which was fine by him. There was no way that both he and Hinata would make it into the top schools (not with their abysmal grades as Tsukishima likes to put it). The only issue that came with the scouting: schools wanted to recruit the both of them, together, a package deal or none at all. After that, it was win upon win upon win. Until they were standing on an international stage, waiting for their first Olympic showdown. And he still hasn’t played Hinata yet; he’d been looking forward to have that face-off. Shame.

Kageyama had spent years studying opponents and his teammates, analysing them and cataloguing their abilities carefully, keeping a close eye on their progress (he knows which button to push, grasped how to bring out the best in his team, so different from the days of high school when he was still learning to be a team player. If he tried, he could play nice. What a shocker.). Hinata would, in normal circumstances, jump as high as he could in an attempt to thwart the block, going in straight for the kill, ever impatient to press ahead. At present though, his partner was hesitating milliseconds before going for the spikes and when he does, the middle blocker lands roughly, finesse all but gone. For fuck’s sake, why was Hinata still on the court, playing? Stupid coach. Didn’t he notice anything at all? Kageyama feels a stab of annoyance. It seemed like the shorty would never stop causing problems for Kageyama, a thorn stuck in his side.

He watches Hinata take a sip of water from his bottle and stalks over, players moving quickly, parting like the red sea, fearful of their temperamental setter. Good, because he’ll toss those that stood in his way. He lunges, hands locking onto Hinata before the middle blocker could flee, stopping only when they were alone in the chilly night air.

“Well?” Kageyama asked, too cold and too tired to beat around the bush. Right now, he just wanted to sink into a nice warm bath and get a good night’s sleep. This wasn’t something he had to fix but he’d gotten stuck with it anyways because it was _Hinata_ and _the coach hadn’t noticed_.

“What? You’re the one who dragged me out here.” Hinata answered, agitated. Kageyama noticed that the shorter boy wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“What the fuck was that?” Kageyama snapped.

“I spiked your tosses and we won?” He provided.

“You’re stating the obvious,” Kageyama rolled his eyes, “and blatantly ignoring my question altogether. How long have we been on the same team now? There’s no way you can get out of this one.”

Hinata gulped, eyes still averted, gazing at the inky horizon, “My knee just hurts when I jump and land.” At Kageyama’s skeptical glance, he continues, “It’s nothing, I’m dealing with it right now. Didn’t stretch right, is all.”

At that, Hinata smiles and Kageyama can’t quite put his finger on it but it looks different, forced, just… _not genuine_ on the whole. The usual Hinata smile made the world right, shifted everything into focus, lit up a room but today… today it lacked its characteristic, defining ‘spark’. It worries him, which is totally out of Kageyama’s comfort zone (he doesn’t really do worry or socialising or just expressing in particular, it has been proven that he’s completely lousy at it). He stares at Hinata, contemplating. Unfortunately for him, there’s no Sugawara or Daichi to help him here. With the matches rapidly approaching, it’s just the two of them and their team against the whole goddamn world. He’ll just have to try his best to pry answers from the unwilling orange head or maybe, if Hinata blatantly refuses to cooperate, keep a close eye on him. He’s a big boy now, depending on his high school teammates isn’t what he’d call ‘growing up’. Besides he hasn’t contacted them for quite awhile, what with the packed schedules and intense training regimes. He’ll just figure things out step by step.

Or he could save himself from the embarrassment and throw Hinata under the bus by telling their coach. But… Hinata would never forgive him; not when it one of the most crucial moments in their lives. After all, they’d practiced daily, tirelessly, to stand here, to represent their country today at the Olympics. Hinata had to work twice as hard for it.

And there was the whole pact issue to deal with too. Troublesome.

There was a slight chance that Hinata, knowing that airhead, would’ve forgotten how to warm up properly. So he’ll allow this one moment of weakness, he’ll allow the flimsy lie to slide, forgotten for now (even as he tries to ignore the slight niggling sensation of doubt in the back of his mind. He distinctly remembers watching Hinata stretch, the taut muscles of his body flexing, technique already drummed into him from the years spent playing the sport).

He’ll just have to suck it up and play nurse (oh, who is he kidding, he’s going to be terrible at this caretaking thing and Hinata will definitely laugh at his sorry attempts, that idiot).

For now though, a warm bath followed by some much-needed rest is his main priority. 

* * *

Olympic matches are a completely different ball game, no pun intended. The courts were filled with the best of the best, each team striving to earn the gold medal for their country.

The familiar smell of air salonpas fails to greet them. Instead, they were hit by the intensity of the lights, the cheer of the crowd, interlaced with the barest hint of the scent of sweat. It’s different, riveting, and there’s definite pressure, tension practically oozing from the pores of players and the audience. It was, undeniably, nerve-wracking.

Kageyama turns to look at his longtime partner, worried about his nerves (he knows Hinata is prone to vomiting at times when he’s under duress), only to be greeted by a rare sight: Hinata bouncing on his toes in excitement.

“Kageyama, we’re here! We’re finally here!”

“Act your age and stop grabbing onto me. We’re here to compete, not to make friends and be wowed by the stadium or the audience or whatever the hell that attracted your interest.”

Obviously, Hinata chose to ignore him.

“It doesn’t smell like air salonpas either!”

“Of course it doesn’t genius. We’re not in high school anymore, just take a good, long look around you." 

Hinata stops rambling, leveling him with an intense gaze (the one that appears when things get tough and crazy, and if Kageyama was being completely honest, he gets floored, the smile that accompanies it gives him the creeps). “We’re going to win this.”

There was a point in time when he doubted Hinata’s abilities. But with years of practice, polishing skills, screams of ‘once more’, accompanied with late night strategic discussions (and cramming for finals), he’d slowly learned to trust the middle blocker, not that he’d admit it. So if the shorty was so confident in their abilities, then who was he to doubt them?

“Yeah. Just don’t puke on the court later.”

The remark earns him a whack on the back.

“Dumbass! Get back here!” Kageyama hollers after a scampering Hinata.

It’s only when Kageyama has Hinata in a headlock that they realise the eyes and cameras are all trained on them. Flushing red, Kageyama releases the flailing boy and returns to their team, apology waved away by their captain and coach who’d long gotten used to their antics. Hinata trailed slowly behind, shoes scuffing the smooth floor of the court.

“Will you be able to keep up with my tosses?” Kageyama teased.

At Hinata’s look of incredulity, he wonders if he’d said something wrong. “I’ve always been by your side ever since the start of high school. We’ve been on each other’s team for years. We progressed, refined our tactics, quicks and whatnots, I can say with a hundred percent certainty we’ll be able to go back to Japan with gold medals around our necks.”

“Yeah, yeah. Remind me never to crack another joke about your volleyball skills again.”

There’s a pause; both of them called back to a time and place where they were constantly arguing, trading insults, driving each other insane, back when the team had to pry them apart sometimes from the constant fights, back when their biggest challenge was Oikawa Tooru and Ushijima Wakatoshi. Their mini reverie breaks when the coach dismisses them for warm up.

“I will get the ball to you.” Kageyama said, as candid as ever (he’d tried to change his way of communicating once but a) it didn’t work out, he stumbled and stuttered his way through b) Hinata laughed in his face, marking the end of his small, miserable endeavour).

“Let’s win this thing.”

* * *

Kageyama definitely appreciates high school volleyball now.

Up here, right now, with all the lights and cameras bearing down on them, the spectators on the edge of their seats, the heat from the court, down to the last few points...

He’s never felt so much pressure before in his entire life. Not even when he was sitting for his final papers (but he knew he was going to screw it all up anyway, that probably took some stress off, late night cramming does nothing but make a person cranky and ill the next day).

They’d made it through the first few Olympic matches easily but as they progressed… each opponent forced them to play more of their cards, they’d nearly exhausted every strategy and combination they had up their sleeves. No matter where he sets the ball, he’s not able to help the spikers break through, the blockers are doing an extremely thorough job of keeping the ball in play and the rallies are getting increasingly bothersome _and_ tiresome. Their players are slowing; the ball is just not going to either side. At this point, fatigue is probably setting in, making their bones ache, their joints hurt, their muscles scream. He wonders how long they can hold out… if any one player decides to quit jumping… well, they’d lose.

He’s worried and cornered, and that’s never a good thing for him. Because when he feels like a trapped animal, the King’s toss makes a reappearance that might result in more missed tosses and teamwork issues, which he has no time for. 

He sees a flash of orange, a vague blur of the number 10 and knows, Hinata wants to bring out their last trump card now. The freakish quick, the one that that had been kept under wraps ever since they’d graduated from university. Kageyama grins, catches the ball, tosses it and _there_. It connects; he hears the slap of skin meeting the ball and the thump as it shoots across the other side of the net. Perfect. Just like last time and the many times before that, he hears the voices of the awed audience and the scoffs from the opposing team. 

“What the heck was that huh?”

“You guys had a move like that and you didn’t tell us?”

They share a look and the both of them burst into laughter. “Well, we had kind of perfected that move in our high school days.”

“We’ve just been waiting for the right moment to bring it back into play.”

“Hate to interrupt but we still have a match to win,” the captain chastises bringing them back to reality.

Try as he might, Kageyama can’t remember what happened in the last few seconds because the happiness of their victory was dwarfed by something he’d never planned for, had never anticipated. He’d put all his focus and energy into setting, feeling the weight of it in hand, tossing it for his teammates and watching as the ball falls to the other side, continuously, only to stop when the whistle is blown.

He expects a certain short orange head to jump onto him in ecstasy.

There’s no familiar feeling of weight or legs wrapping around his waist. Hinata’s missing.

He tries to pry his way through the human mob that is their team, heart pounding. _Where the fuck is Hinata?_ And the happiness Kageyama felt a few moments before shatters as he drinks in the sight before him. The middle blocker was on the floor, holding onto his knee and crying. _This cannot be happening, no, no, no. We just won, damn it._ He rushes over.

“Shouyou? Hey, Shouyou! Medic!”

* * *

“You lied.” Voice flat, devoid of emotion. The tears were there, just waiting for the barest hint of a crack but he won’t allow it, won’t allow the dam to break into pieces. He wasn’t the one lying in the hospital bed; he’d still play volleyball, still be able to compete, body and joints functioning like a well-oiled machine. The one who was broken was Hinata, the boy who shone like the sun, except he wasn’t so sunny anymore. The middle blocker lacked his usual energy and his smile, the one Kageyama loves, wasn’t present. Instead, what he gets is a pale-faced Hinata, forcing his eyes open, staying awake despite drugs being pumped into his system.

“Of course I did. I had to.” Hinata’s reply was a little slower, slurred.

“Why?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

“…”

“I wanted to stand on the same stage as you, if not as your opponent then as your teammate and I did. We stood on the top of the world.”

“…”

If only he’d realised that Hinata was pushing way too hard. If only he’d told coach about his suspicions. If only he hadn’t been so fucking selfish to see what was right in front of his face. He had wanted to stand with Hinata on the grand stage, so he bought all the lies, pretended that things were marvelous and perfect. And look where that got the both of them now.

“You’re blaming yourself aren’t you? Don’t. It was my choice in the beginning and I will accept all the consequences.”

“Are you happy?”

“I don’t really have an answer to that.” Hinata’s answering smile was forlorn, wistful. “I do still wish I could play though.”

“I’ll toss to you.”

“You heard what the doctors said.”

“It doesn’t have to be competitive volleyball, you know? Just concentrate on getting better first, I promise I’ll be there. You just have to trust me.”

“Trust huh.”

“Hey, I’m not going to allow you to rest on your laurels. Besides, we made some pretty explosive progress when you decided to trust me the first time around. All I’m asking is for that trust again.”

Hinata raises his watery eyes to meet Kageyama’s.

“When the time comes, fly.”

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, I had to destroy Kagehina day with angst. I left the ending open, use your own imagination and turn the story into a happy one!


End file.
